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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468242">The Vengeful One</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonKisses/pseuds/PoisonKisses'>PoisonKisses</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gotham by Night [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Gotham City Sirens (Comics), Vampire the Masquerade - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, Polyamory, Vampire Gotham, pansexuality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:55:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonKisses/pseuds/PoisonKisses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As our story begins, the Sirens are one of the most dangerous coteries of Gotham, and the Prince barely has them under control. Hoping to get their friend out and doing something, Talia and Shiva invite her along to try and catch Joker, the Malkavian cult leader, in order to kill him and at the very least do some damage to his nightly operations.</p><p>A horrible discovery may lead to something more than incidental violence.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Batman/Catwoman, Joker/Punchline, Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy/Lady Shiva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gotham by Night [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Vengeful One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A mashup I've been meaning to do for a while. Please see end notes for a little glossary to help readers unfamiliar with Vampire the Masquerade understand what's happening.</p><p>This is not a pro-Punchline or Joker story so be advised.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Part I: The Vengeful One</p><p>
  <em>So sleep soundly in your beds tonight<br/>
For judgement falls upon you at first light</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm the hand of God<br/>
I'm the dark messiah<br/>
I'm the vengeful one<br/>
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)<br/>
In the blackest moments of a dying world<br/>
What have you become<br/>
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)<br/>
</em>
</p><p>She was between sets at the club, her first performance of the night had gone well, and she was tucked into a curtained side booth, alone, with the newest issue of Botany Today, knee high latex heels propped up on the table, when the night took a fun turn.</p><p>Talia and Shiva stuck their heads in, the former grinning, the latter’s face serene..</p><p>“Hey, slut,” the Assamite said, her eyes dancing with mischief, “We’re gonna go humiliate that loser Malk, you in?”</p><p>“And if he should experience a true death…” the Gangrel said, her own wolf-like eyes glittering with promise, and let her voice trail off.</p><p>Ivy closed her magazine, pulled a loop of her bullwhip’s oiled leather through latex covered fingers and grinned back, flashing her fangs. “I thought you losers would never ask.”</p><p>The three most dangerous Kindred in Gotham set off to do some damage to the Joker’s operation.</p><p>Fifteen minutes later and she was in the back of Talia’s current favorite car, a cherry-red Porsche convertible, the top down, and the three of them were racing across the bridge, angling for the East End, the Narrows, and the possible Joker haven Shiva had sniffed out earlier that evening.</p><p>Once upon a time, Selina would have been with them. Possibly even Zatanna, if she could've been convinced to leave her precious magical ivory tower and risk herself on the streets. The five of them had come up together, embraced around the same time, and presented to the Prince in the fall of 1966. Five powerful women, all embraced into different clans, meant to fend off an incursion by Sabbat forces--that they’d all been women was a fluke, but it was interesting enough that Silver St. Cloud, the Toreador Primogen and Selina’s sire, had laughed in her lilting voice and remarked, “Why, Bruce, darling, you’ve acquired a whole pack of Sirens here!”</p><p>The name had stuck. The war was waged, and in that storm of fire and shower of blood they’d formed bonds of friendship rarely seen among the backstabbing, hateful Kindred. Ivy knew she’d die for any of them, and any of them would die for her.</p><p>These nights Zee was almost always busy. Her clan, the Tremere, had suffered several spectacular failures and setbacks over the last couple of decades, and they were, as a whole, circling the wagons. They were hated and distrusted by most, and it had been their largely unknown power that kept most of the other clans from striking at them openly, but that power wasn’t quite so terrifying anymore. The Tremere had made a lot of enemies.</p><p>Selina was the Prince’s current favorite distraction. The sleek Toreador had his ear now, and she spent her nights at court. Occasionally, she’d call Ivy up, thirsting to get a little metaphorical dirt on her hands, but it was only a taste she wanted, and she had no intention of doing anything too contrary to Bruce’s desires or her own commitments to the Camarilla.</p><p>It made Ivy want to roll her eyes. She didn’t really consider herself a part of all that. She’d been an outsider her entire existence, and in her breathing days she’d been protesting the war, capitalism, the destruction of the environment, and men when she’d caught the eye of her own sire, Alec, a very sober, solid, methodical man who was captivated by her passions and decided to make her immortal.</p><p>Talia, of course, was Assamite. If the Tremere were distrusted, her clan was outright feared, and for good reason. Talia’s sire, her self-styled ‘father,’ an ancient creature known as ‘the Demon’s Head,’ supposedly had sired and groomed her to be a consort to Bruce. It was creepy and gross and the whole concept put Ivy’s feminist teeth on edge, but Talia was vibrant, fun, and when Bruce ultimately decided he wasn’t interested, Talia seemed almost...relieved. She was rich and young and gorgeous and every night was a party for her.</p><p>She was also one of the most deadly warriors in the city, feared by almost everyone. It didn’t hurt, either, that she was friends with Shiva.</p><p>Sandra Wu-San was the daughter of a Chinese immigrant. She’d spent her childhood in Gotham’s Chinatown, studying Wing Chun with an aged Master from the time she was old enough to walk. She’d made perfecting the Martial Arts her focus to the exclusion of all else, and a passing random vampire had decided to make her eternally young and powerful. Sandra took it in stride, it gave her eternity to practice, to perfect, and gave her a preternatural focus and supernatural speed that was difficult to describe, let alone match.</p><p>But something happened after her embrace.</p><p>With the other Sirens, Sandra found something she’d never had before--friends, purpose, and in Ivy’s case, a lover. She smiled thinking of the many nights they’d spent twined in each others’ arms.</p><p>Talia gave a war whoop and swerved onto an exit ramp. Heavy metal was pumping from her car’s stereo: Rob Zombie, Slayer, Drowning Pool. Disturbed was thundering over the speakers when she stomped on the brakes in front of a dilapidated empty factory near the docks.</p><p>Well, it wasn’t that abandoned. Once, it had been the headquarters of Laff Laff Kitten toys, and there was still a sign with that infamous cartoon cat, defaced with his favorite bit of vandalism, a slash of a smile painted in red, like dripping blood, hanging crookedly over the parking lot entrance.</p><p>Their target was the man called Joker, the de facto leader of the Malkavians, a sadistic monster who skirted a violation of the Masquerade nightly, who commanded a small army of fanatical, hyper-violent clown themed humans. They’d begun to infest the city, driving out or assimilating the already present street gangs. Joker wasn’t the Malkavian Primogen, that was Hugo Strange, but everyone knew who the real power was in their clan. He defied Prince Bruce at every turn, flaunting his disregard for the Traditions by hiding behind them. Bruce wouldn’t punish them too severely for ridding him of this particular problem, and for the Sirens, killing Jokerz (the name they used for themselves) was almost a sacrament.</p><p>Two of them were posted at the front, dressed in tee shirts and ripped jeans. Some Jokerz wore clown masks, some wore makeup, some just a fake nose or a clown hair piece. These both had makeup, diamond dyes, red lips, and when the car skidded to a stop, they began to fumble--one with a radio, the other with a nine hidden in his baggy pants.</p><p>The three hopped out. Talia reached behind her, pulling the scimitar she’d left there next to Ivy with a single, fluid motion. Talia was as much dancer as martial artist, and the blade whispered free soundlessly. It was an ancient thing, passed down through her clan for a millennium, and had seen crusades and wars, tasted the blood of hundreds of Kindred and thousands of Kine over the years. It was Damascene steel, honed to a razor edge and a bluish silver color. </p><p>Shiva rolled her neck and flexed her fingers, her nails lengthening and sharpening into lethal claws. Shiva didn’t need a weapon and never carried one. She WAS the weapon.</p><p>Anyone else would have looked ridiculous is full Dominatrix gear, but it was natural on Ivy, and her stiletto heels clicked smartly on the pavement as she stepped out, terrifyingly, powerfully feminine. The two thugs didn’t know how to process what they were seeing and were hit with wave of awe and desire from her--their lives were misery, despair, filth, and degradation. They didn’t even know there could BE another way. They were dupes, fools, most likely bound to Joker through his blood, a favorite trick. These mortals’ lives were all forfeit, breaches of the Masquerade.</p><p>They never saw Talia move. She was a blur, a ripplie of shadow, and then one was free of his head, the other disemboweled, his gun clattering to the ground, useless.</p><p>Shiva stopped to drink her fill on him, dropping his bloodless corpse with contempt, and then they were moving in on the factory.</p><p>Ivy was not as fast or skilled as the other two, but her blood was Brujah. She was a terror, scattering them before her or enslaving their wills at first sight, and she was strong, strong enough to break their bodies and shatter their bones. </p><p>They fanned out, killing at will, feeding, glutting themselves on their blood. Seeking Joker.</p><p>Ivy burst into an upper floor office, ripping the door off its hinges with one hand, and found a small man hurriedly stuffing papers in a comically antique suitcase. He whirled, shaggy, unkempt blonde locks framing his ugly face with its giant nose. His small fangs were out, and he regarded her with terror.</p><p>“Ivy!” he exclaimed, eyes going wide.</p><p>“Jervis,” she said. Jervis Tetch, one of Joker’s favorite insane proteges, a killer in life sporting an obsession with all things Alice in Wonderland. She found him distasteful on his best day. He wasn’t just a killer…</p><p>“You’re going to stand aside and let me go.” His voice took on a booming nature, and the force of his will hit her like a battering ram. Everything in her screamed to let him pass. It might have worked, but she knew he wasn’t just a killer. He’d been a pedophile, the Alice obsession used to cover up his urge to rape little blonde girls, and she was Brujah. That familiar righteous fury began to rise, and she let it. Her first blow caved in his face, lifting him off the ground spinning him, flipping him to land on his chest.</p><p>He was only capable of a gurgling moan, and she used the toe of her stiletto boots to flip him onto his back. Her second blow staved in his skull, and her third pulped what was left. She spat on the decomposing remains  “Off with your head, bitch.” She sneered.</p><p>The few remaining Jokerz were making a stand in the corner of the warehouse. Pistols and sub-machine guns, mostly, but one guy had an AR-15 and their leader was desperately waving a Colt Anaconda around. A few of these were ghouls, and they were quite a bit tougher than the other humans, but it was still a moot point.</p><p>Their leader was a girl, presumably one of Joker’s idiot groupies. He did that occasionally, trot out some skank he’d bound with blood to ‘assist’ him (really just use as a prop for his version of prop comedy,) and cheer and clap for him. Ivy remembered a perky blonde in pigtails, but this girl was paler, with raven hair and a bad haircut. She was screaming orders and the Jokerz were trying to obey, but it was too late.</p><p>Oh, it was much too late.</p><p>Shiva and Talia were among them, moving so fast and covering the distance between two ticks of the clock, and then the screaming began. Random firing sending hot rounds flying in every direction, hitting other Jokers more often than not.</p><p>She selected a relatively clean one, a young guy who looked terrified. She caught his wrist with her whip and jerked him toward him, and when he looked her direction, she hit him full force with her supernatural charisma, freezing him in his tracks. The guy couldn’t look away, and he happily bared his neck for her.</p><p>She drained him dry, luxuriating in the feel of his hot, young blood coating her throat, filling her, satiating her inner hunger, and as his lifeless body dropped to the ground, she couldn’t help a slow, sensuous, indolent stretch. </p><p>Shiva was smiling. “Enjoying yourself, love?”</p><p>She pulled Shiva close, kissing her hungrily, tasting the various men who’d died this night on her lover’s lips. “Very much so. No Joker, but I got Tetch.”</p><p>Shiva’s smile widened into a full grin. “That is fantastic news!”</p><p>Talia had fisted the groupie’s hair and dragged her bodily over to them. “Here, I think he lost this.” The girl wore ridiculous clown makeup, circles on her cheeks like a Raggedy Ann doll. Underneath she looked tired. Unhealthy. Her eyes bright from drugs and almost assuredly an addiction to Joker’s blood.</p><p>“You fucking skanks don’t know who you’re dealing with,” she was snarling as Talia dumped her unceremoniously on the ground.</p><p>The three of them exchanged a look and then all three burst into laughter.</p><p>“What’s your name?” Ivy asked when she had control of herself.</p><p>“You don’t get it. You three, your Camarilla, your whole world, you’re such fucking jokes. And I’m His. I’m the Punchline.”</p><p>All three of them burst into laughter at that. She snarled and lunged, but Ivy casually slapped her and the girl hit the ground, gagging, gurgling, and finally spitting out broken teeth, which she then stared at in horror.</p><p>“He threw you under the bus you little twit,” Talia laughed in her rich, deep, musical voice. Trust me, I know what it’s like to be used by a man.” The girl was holding hands to her ruined mouth. It was starting to dawn on her.</p><p>“I thought his little chippee was blond?” Ivy asked, as much to herself as to the girl, but she looked up at Ivy, eyes glinting with cruelty.</p><p>“He realized it was time to upgrade. He needed a partner, not a broken toy.”</p><p>“Did he kill her?” Shiva’s voice was quiet, but it carried. Even this one wasn’t stupid enough to mock her.</p><p>“It was more fun to listen to her squawk,” said the girl and Ivy exchanged a look with Shiva, who immediately moved off, as silent as a ghost. They knew each other so well words were rarely necessary. If the other groupie was still alive, she might be more willing to talk than this one, who was so in the grip of blood bond fanaticism and devotion, they’d never get anything out of her.</p><p>Talia glanced her way, reached up to run slender fingers through her hair, brushing red curls back from her face. “Hey.”</p><p>She jerked herself out of her thoughts and smiled. “Hey.”</p><p>“Thanks for coming out. I’m worried about you.” She tilted her head, her blue black hair shimmering as it shifted. “It’s been a blessing to see you engaged, sister-of-my-heart.” Ivy smiled again, felt a rush of emotion.</p><p>In truth the past few months she’d been withdrawing, spending her time working in her lab, researching, playing in her garden, or at the club doing her ‘day job,’ working as a professional Domme and performance artist. She was good at it, and there was a time she thoroughly enjoyed it, but for a while now she’d felt adrift. Lost. </p><p>Shiva’s face was impassive, but Ivy could read her like a book. The trick was her eyes, and something had spooked her. “You two need to see this.” Her tone, her words, invited no argument.</p><p>Shiva led them to a pit, a large grate that opened up into an empty chemical vat. It still carried a lingering smell of plastic and caustic acid.The metal cover had been thrown back.</p><p>Below them was a makeshift cell. Iron shackles, crudely cut with a blowtorch, were attached by thick chains to the wall, bolted in. From each set of shackles a corpse dangled in various states of decay. The one furthest left was little more than a desiccated mummy. To its right, the next was more fresh, and so forth. The last one still smelled faintly of rot.</p><p>Ivy couldn’t help but picture the little blonde who followed Joker around. Bright, bouncy pigtails, small petite body, big grin, wearing her red and black motley, a unitard with red and black diamond patterns. Below her, every corpse had some version of that unitard on, ripped, threadbare, even moth eaten. The sixth set of shackles held a body as well, but it wasn’t a corpse…</p><p>She was too weak to raise her head. Her face was hollow, cheeks desiccated, lips cracked, dried blood caked around her wrists where the shackles cruelly bit into flesh, and a variety of other old wounds like knife cuts, cigarette burns, and welts from a leather belt, covered her. The girl was alive, and when she stried to speak, her voice was cracked and slurred.</p><p>“Mistah J--?” she managed to croak out.</p><p>It hit Ivy all at once, what he’d been doing. How many girls over the years, she suddenly wondered, how many otherwise innocent girls he’d forced the blood bond on. Innocent ones, not like this willing accomplice currently laughing.</p><p>“I guess no more Harley Quinn!” she was taunting.</p><p>Ivy turned, wordlessly, and walked over to her. She grasped the girl by the throat, lifted her off her feet as though she were made of paper, and then punched her other hand through the girl’s chest, gripped her beating heart, and then ripped the bloody mess out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some Vampire the Masquerade notes:</p><p>Vampires are divided into clans, and each clan carries with it certain attributes and abilities they excel at. The clans do not necessarily get along well. Those clans form themselves into factions--the Camarilla enjoys privilege and wealth and age old power. The Sabbat is a group of vampires who defy the idea that vampires should hide what they are and prefer to be the monsters they are, the Anarchs are the rebels and malcontents who defy the Camarilla's authority.</p><p>Vampires call themselves Kindred and they refer to humans as Kine.</p><p>Vampires obviously require blood to exist. If someone drinks from the same vampire three times, they become blood bound. Basically completely enslaved to them through an artificial sense of love. Exchanging blood like this is intensely sensual for both parties, and for two vampires is basically sex. But hitting three drinks with the same vampire leads to the blood bond, and few are willing to become complete slaves to another.</p><p>When a Vampire creates another vampire, they are the sire, and the vampire they create is called their progeny. This act is called the Embrace</p><p>The bite and act of feeding is intensely, orgasmically pleasurable. Most people, once, bitten, stop fighting.</p><p>Humans who are fed vampire blood become ghouls. Ghouls are still alive, but they stop aging and have minor vampire strength and speed.</p><p>The Camarilla organizes itself in a feudal system, with a Vampire Prince at the top. Gotham's Prince is Bruce Wayne. The Prince nominally adheres to and enforces the Traditions.</p><p>The Traditions are basically the vampire commandments. They are:</p><p>Masquerade: Hide the existence of vampires.<br/>Domain: A kindred's hunting ground is his own territory, and he rules it absolutely.<br/>Progeny: Sire only with permission of one's elders.<br/>Accounting: Until childer are released, their actions are the responsibility of their sire.<br/>Hospitality: Honor the domains of others, and present oneself to the ruler of any domain you visit.<br/>Destruction: The right to kill Kindred is reserved for the Elder of a community. Only an elder may call a Blood Hunt.</p><p>The Masquerade is paramount. Their very existence hinges on it.</p><p>Ivy is a Brujah, a clan known for their speed, strength, and charisma. Traditionally they were warriors and scholars, and in modern nights typically are firebrands, protestors, and crusaders. They're also known for their tempers.</p><p>Selina is a Toreador, a clan known for their love of art and their value of humanity. They can be indolent, jaded, and decadent to be sure. They're known for their speed, charisma, and senses.</p><p>Talia is an Assamite. They are assassins, hailing from the Arabic world, and are not a clan normally part of the Camarilla. They're fast and stealthy and can use their own vitae (blood) as a weapon.</p><p>Shiva is a Gangrel, a clan known for their independence and wanderlust. They no long affiliate themselves with the Camarilla, but are not necessarily at war with them either. They can shapeshift, control animals, and are preternaturally tough.</p><p>Zatanna is Tremere, a clan of vampire blood sorcerers. The Tremere are distrusted but their power is feared by other vampires</p><p>Joker and Mad Hatter are Malkavian, a clan known for their insanity. They can control and warp minds, have mysterious ways of perceiving the world, and are known for stealth.</p><p>That should be enough to get us started</p></blockquote></div></div>
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